alone in the kitchen at 4 am eating a hotdog.
Apparently I think casual Friday means I can show up unshaven in yesterday's clothes and reeking of booze.
he's 25, hott, and leaving for iraq tuesday, i wanna get in as much as possible...
your life is a nick sparks novel waiting to happen
I have blocked the memory from my mind. He is just a fuzzy cloud floating with my other bad decisions..
You told them that the brownies were safe, and then pointed to a passed out Ryan and said "see?"
Between the hair pulling and the choking its its more like combat than sex
Sorry I have an "Operation Iraqi Freedom" fantasy
Note to self: Do not bring gift bag with cock ring inside to family Christmas. Leave to unwrap at home.
Febreezed myself at a stop light on the way to the IRS office. Judgmental glare from some old lady in the car next to me, thumbs up from her husband.
Now you know my pain. Live with it. Own it. Recognize it. Cause its like shitting napalm.
Worrying about "What smells like cat pee?" is so much easier than worrying about "What am I doing with my life?"
Yeah no problem. What are blow job angels for anyways
I felt like a responsible adult. A responsible adult that may or may not end up shitfaced. But not heaving purple puke into a urinal like last time because I'm classy now.
No, it's like a legit blood drive. It's not just her out in some parking lot with needles and ziplock bags
What the hell did you do last night?
I embarrassed myself, my family, name, and possibly my country.
I danced shirtless on a platform with a fucking stripper who went to MIT
Randomize
